


I Don’t Need Dollar Bills to Have Fun Tonight

by bar2d2s



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, awkward misunderstandings, post ANH pre ESB
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 06:54:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6145258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bar2d2s/pseuds/bar2d2s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When cabin fever hits, the only real choice a pilot in a rebel base has is to grab a friend and get high.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don’t Need Dollar Bills to Have Fun Tonight

From the days racing speeders and pushing faulty 'jumpers to the brink of the atmosphere to his current reality behind the controls of an X-Wing fighter craft, Luke Skywalker had an itch that could only be scratched with _danger_ and _speed_. Oh the swashbuckling and princess-rescuing was nice and all, but he was a pilot first, always had been. 

The losses suffered in the fight against the Death Star had been devastating, both for the rebellion, and for Luke himself. Biggs' death, so soon after their reunion...he hadn't even wanted to think about it. So he made himself busy around the base, helping to pack things up quickly so as to make their mass exodus to their new headquarters as easy as possible. He worked on any machine that needed fine-tuning, even if he wasn't completely sure what he was looking at a good half the time, and _might_ have done more harm than good on the things that stayed stationary on the ground. He took the time to get to know Leia better, his early fascination with her loveliness and bravery tempered into a strong respect by her wit and ferocity. Luke did everything a good little darling of the rebellion should be doing in the weeks following a major victory.

He was bored out of his mind, and quickly growing unafraid to whine about it.

"Princess." Leia wasn't doing anything particularly important at the moment, just reviewing some data on Imperial colonization in the rim worlds. He knew, he'd asked around. She waved him off anyway. "Senator." Her brow furrowed, eyes still scanning the screen of her datapad. "General." Her lips were beginning to twitch, and Luke grinned to himself before loudly whining, " _Ma’am_." He drew out the syllables until her facade cracked and she began to laugh.

" _What_?!" She snapped, not looking angry at all. Luke plopped down in the chair next to her, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I'm going crazy, Princess. Look at my hand, just look at it." He held his arm out in front of him to illustrate, fingers twitching. "I'm going out of my skin, here."

"Well, I'm not sending you out on recon. I've got over a dozen pilots at my command, but only one Jedi." At the mere _insinuation_ of flight, Luke was forced to choke off a whimper. Leia noticed it immediately, and sighed. "Low orbit. One hour. Leave Artoo here."

It took everything he had not to shout and punch the air. These rebellion types tended to find that kind of enthusiasm odd. Instead, Luke smacked a kiss to the center part of Leia's hair and dashed out the door with a quick, "Thanks, Princess!"

The hangar wasn't quite barren, but it was still a sorry sight. Most of the actual fighter crafts had already been moved to the new base, replaced by various freighters and personal ships. The Falcon wasn't there at the moment, Han and Chewie off on some errand that required the know-how of men who commonly took the low roads. He missed them, but he knew they'd be back. As he did a preliminary check on the X-Wing he'd claimed as his own, Luke heard a voice calling for him from the opposite side of the room.

"Skywalker, who gave you clearance?"

Wedge was probably serious; when it came to the fighters, he usually was. Luke pulled his helmet off, shaking his head. "Leia did. One hour, low orbit. I'm twitching like a droid in a scrapyard, Wedge, I've just _gotta_ get high." The other man snorted, palming his forehead. 'Getting high' had been a pilot's phrase _he’d_ taught Luke, after all. Before him, the kid had thought it involved illicit materials. 

"It's like that meditation you're always doing." He explained in the mess one day, between bites of his sandwich. "Puts you in a good headspace. No fighting, no dodging, no nothing. Just you and the sky, taking you where you need to go. I do it every chance I get."

This was, of course, in the days following the Death Star, when everyone was too distracted with celebration to notice a couple of fighters vanishing for a few hours. Wedge had no real want to drink and carry on, he was set on celebrating his fallen the way they'd have _really_ liked. Luke was still reeling from the one-two losses of his aunt and uncle, and then Ben and Biggs. He needed the time away. There wasn't much air chatter then, but it wasn't like they had a course. He and Wedge flew well together, even better without the threat of a battle looming behind them. If Biggs had survived, they three would have been death on wings together. Luke supposed he'd have to settle for being the terror of the Empire, instead.

Wedge sighed, crossing his arms.

"If you really think I'm letting you sprint out alone, Red Five, you're further gone than you thought." Behind that solemn expression, Luke could see Wedge was suffering the same cabin fever that he was. Luke grinned.

"Well then saddle up, Red Two, and let's get the heck gone!"

***

It was clear out when they took off, late afternoon sunlight quickly lengthening into dusk, and Luke let Wedge take the lead. He knew Yavin IV better, had been flying it longer. Their headsets were set to a private channel, in case of emergency, but not five minutes passed before Luke used it. He accelerated, looping around Wedge before flying back the way they came.

"Catch me if you can!"

Wedge was more experienced in his fighter. He'd been flying an X-Wing for months, dozens of missions under his belt. But Luke was just... _better_. He rolled over the top of Wedge, not even touching him before zipping off, his laughter ringing out over Wedge's shout of alarm through the comms.

Their fighters danced around each other, climbing higher and higher until they broke the atmosphere, bare space looming before them. Luke itched to go even further, maybe hop to a more populated area, but he'd promised. One hour, low orbit. "How long's it been since takeoff, Red Two?" A beat passed before his reply.

"Quarter of an hour, Luke." Oh, that was surprising. He'd thought it had been longer. "Now it's _your_ turn to catch _me_."

Wedge gunned it, screaming across the horizon's edge. He seemed to be chasing the setting sun, and Luke was determined to keep up. He pushed his fighter to go faster, cutting in front of Wedge before angling into a nosedive, pulling up before he hit the treetops. He slowed down a bit, letting Wedge catch up and pull alongside him.

"You're crazy, kid!" He crowed, beaming with delight behind his helmet's visor. "Hey, sun's almost set. You wanna keep out for the full hour?" The base became much harder to spot from the air at night, but it had been weeks.

"Yes." Luke replied firmly and to make his point, floored the throttle hard enough to bow the trees with his wake. Wedge's yelp rang out clearly, the other man chasing after him up, up, up, until they were skimming the tops of the clouds. "How much longer we have?"

"Close on twenty minutes." Was Wedge's immediate answer. He was keeping an eye on the time now, and Luke was grateful. "Say, you want to do something absolutely stupid and reckless, that'll get us chewed out if we're caught?" Luke could feel the heat on his cheeks from Wedge's sly tone and enticing words.

"You're a man after my own heart, Wedge, what've you got?" A low chuckle reverberated across the line.

"Follow me."

They were climbing again, breaking through the upper atmosphere and almost leaving direct orbit. Wedge lead him halfway across the planet, until he spotted a large body of water. Then, he dove for it, wings closing up.

"Wedge, what are you-"

"Just trust me."

His voice was as calm as Ben's had been, when he'd told him to use the Force to guide his shot, and Luke trusted him. He folded his fighter's wings in, angling for the water. 

"Don't pull up, or open, until the last second."

This idiot was going to get them both killed. A water crash from orbit was just begging for death. Even if they survived, a body of water this big was sure to have nasty creatures in it. But Luke listened, watched as the water approached at a heart-pounding speed.

"Now!" Wedge yelled into his ear. "Wings out, fly straight!"

The sound of the water hissing against the hull was audible over the roar of the engine, over the beating of his own heart, over the whoops and cheers he and Wedge were letting out across their channel. 

"Now _that_ was a flight, flyboy!" Wedge was saying, and Luke couldn't help but agree. They even had time to make it back to the hangar, provided they could find it. Luckily, someone else had had the foresight to turn on the landing lights, and the two fighters were back where they belonged with seconds to spare.

"How could an hour go by so fast, yet so slow at the same time?" Luke asked wistfully as he climbed out of Red Five, shrugging the top half of his flight suit off and tying it about his waist. Wedge was only just taking off his helmet, shaking out his sweat-damp hair.

"Time dilation." He said seriously, but ruined it with a bright grin. "Never let it be said I'm a boring date, Skywalker."

Luke's cheeks colored, and he dropped his eyes bashfully. He'd hoped that the strange flirting through flying thing they'd been doing for ages hadn't all been his imagination, but the confirmation was still a bit overwhelming. He really _liked_ Wedge, after all.

"No, just a cheap one." Luke shot back, trying to will himself still. His body was quivering with nervous energy again, but this time, it had nothing to do with restlessness. Wedge walked up to him, the few inches he had on him more daunting than the miles they'd plummeted through the air. Wedge's hand reached out to cup his slim waist, drawing him forward.

"Yeah well, I heard this rumor you loved cheap thrills." He murmured, voice huskier than usual. Luke felt his eyelids drop to half-mast. He'd seen the holos. This was the moment, wasn't it? He tilted his face up slightly, inviting.  
Then Wedge patted his hip, pulling away from him. 

"Well, g'night." What.

"What?" Luke said again, aloud this time. Wedge rolled his eyes, repeating himself as if Luke were hard of hearing.

"I said, _good night_ , Luke. I'm going to bed." Luke's mouth fell open, words rushing out without his permission.

"Alone?" Wedge jolted, back completely straight as he stood stock-still, facing away from Luke. "Because, I mean-"

"Kid, you can't _do_ this to me." The taller man groaned, posture crumpling. And really, that wasn't fair. Yeah, he took the 'kid' thing from Han, but _that_ particular Corellian was an entire decade older than him. Wedge was only 21.

"I'm not a kid," He protested. "I'm nineteen." _And_ the hero of the rebellion, he didn't add.

"You're a farmboy from a rim world with more talent than sense." Wedge shot back and this time, it was Luke's expression that fell. "Wait. Luke, I didn't mean-"

But it was too late. Luke tossed his helmet back up and into the cockpit, only taking off for his quarters when he heard the satisfying clang of metal hitting metal.

***

He shared a room with Han, normally, but with the smuggler off on his secret mission, the usually cramped space was the perfect size to hold all of his misery.

It wasn't fair. He and Leia were the same age, and everyone looked at her with respect. And, okay, people respected him too, but there was always this sense, like they were expecting him to do or say something silly. General Organa gave orders, and you followed them. Luke Skywalker sometimes accidentally made a fool of himself on his way to doing something tactically brilliant.

Luke touched his mouth, remembering how close they'd been. Coming down off the adrenaline high, still ready and willing to take on the universe. If he'd just made the first move, pushed forward a few inches-

Wedge would have, what? Shoved him away? Yelled at him? Or maybe drawn him in closer, threaded his fingers into his hair, gasped against his mouth...

His thoughts were forcibly pulled out of that direction by a knock at the door. He turned his back to it, not answering. The knocking continued, harder. Whoever was on the other side was sure to split their knuckles at this rate.

"Oh, kriff it. I'm coming in!" Personal quarters didn't require keycard entry like the various command centers and meeting rooms did, and Luke was too slow to throw himself against the door to block it. Wedge didn't exactly _slam_ the door open, but it still made quite the clatter as it bounced against the stopper on the wall. "Luke, we need to talk." That was the worst phrase, and his distress was clearly showing on his face. "Not in a bad way! I just...can you give me some input, here? About what you think is going on?"

And how unfair was that? Wedge was so selfish, handing off the reins completely to him, expecting him to just open up about his feelings, simple as you please. Well, Luke wasn't going to break so easily. 

Wedge leaned against the doorway, feigning casual while hugging his arms to his chest. Luke could see the indents his nails were making in his elbows, the little shakes as he tried to keep himself from bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Why didn't you kiss me back there?" He demanded, mouth pinching as his eyes squeezed shut. Way to fly casual, Skywalker. "I mean, we've been. I don't know. Doing this thing for a while now, and I'd really hoped you were going to finally just...I _wanted_ you to, Wedge." He was pleading, and he felt pathetic, but what hurt worse was how he seemed to be making Wedge angry.

"Because I can't!" The older man all but exploded, stepping out of the doorway and letting the door close. "I'm a lot of things, Skywalker, but I'm not a homewrecker." His eyes strayed to the bottom bunk Han had claimed for his own, bed still unmade. Luke would have tidied up, but Han tended to get cagey when someone touched his things, so he'd decided to leave it be. He followed Wedge's gaze, but the implication didn't exactly click into place.

"What are you _talking_ about?" He asked incredulously, throwing his hands into the air. "What home are you wrecking? I don't have one anymore, outside of this place. The rebellion is my life now." Wedge knew about that. He was an orphan, too. "Sure I've got some friends back on Tatooine and I miss them, but the most important people in my life are all here with me." Wedge's face was doing something interesting, which wasn't really saying much. To Luke, Wedge's face was constantly doing something interesting. But now it was like he was realizing something, and trying not to laugh about it.

"So," He began slowly. "You and Solo..?"

Realization hit like a shot from Chewie's bowcaster, and Luke went scarlet.

" _No_." He yelped, hands held out in front of him as if to ward off the idea. Not that Han wasn't handsome, and charming, and pretty much the exact type of person Luke used to daydream about coming to steal him away from Tatooine, but there was just something off. Maybe it was the Force sending him a message, maybe it was because now he knew that Han snored like a Bantha and put off washing his clothes until they were stiff from dried sweat, but _something_  told him that the little crush he had on the dashing smuggler was never going to be more than that.

Meanwhile, the feelings he'd been cultivating for the rebellion’s _other_ cocky Corellian pilot, that only intensified every time Wedge asked him to help him work on the fighters, or made a face at him across the mess while some commanding officer was talking to him, or even just patted him on the shoulder when they passed in the hallways...those just weren't going away. The grim line of Wedge's mouth had softened, slowly morphing into a breathtaking smile.

"And it's safe to assume that you and the General-" Luke choked on air, because now Wedge was just screwing with him.

"Friends." He insisted, laughing. "Best friends. I can practically read their minds, we're so close." Also, the Force, but Wedge knew that too. Knew how he didn't really _read_ minds, just got little impressions from people. Maybe as his powers strengthened he'd be able to fine-tune it, but for now, accurate indications of a person's mood worked pretty well for him. Wedge was stepping closer to him again, relief radiating off him in comforting waves. His hand found Luke's waist again, thumb skirting over the slight curve of his hip.

"And what about me?" He asked, fully crowded into Luke's space. "Can you read me?"

If he reached out with the Force, yeah, actually. He couldn't get much more than feelings, but those were what he was looking for, anyway. Luke's brow furrowed. "You don't want to kiss me."

"Nope." Wedge replied softly, fingers rubbing circles that Luke felt through his flight suit.

"You want me...to kiss _you_." Wedge's hand on him tightened slightly, embarrassed even though he'd invited the mental probing, and he nodded.

"Sure do, hotshot. Think you can hit the target from this distance?"

Their noses bumped together when Luke surged up, hands clutching the front of Wedge's flight suit like a lifeline. He quickly corrected his trajectory, pressing his mouth to Wedge's in the sweetest, softest, most absolutely desperate kiss he'd ever given another person.

 _Feel what I feel_ , his mind practically begged, and Wedge gasped against his barely-open mouth. They shared air like that for a moment, breathing each other until they were faint from the lack of true oxygen, and Wedge slid his hand up from Luke's hip to thread into his hair. Just like he'd imagined.

They kissed for a long while, leaning against the ladder that lead to Luke's sleeping space. Wedge seemed to favor long, slow kisses that left Luke dizzy and gasping against his neck, where his face fit perfectly. His hands, which had been hanging on to Wedge's shoulders for the most part, grew bold and began to wander, one moving up to play with dark locks, the other moving down to palm at Wedge's ass. Wedge squeaked against his mouth.

"H-hold on there, Luke." He panted, forcibly pulling himself away. "Not that, ah. That is to say. Not that I'm particularly _opposed_ to lighting your saber, so to speak," Wedge was blushing, and the sight made Luke's head spin. "but I wanna do this right, Skywalker." He leaned forward, kissing Luke one last time before stepping back. His resolve almost broke when Luke whined high and soft, hands reaching out for him.

"Were we doing something wrong?" Luke asked dazedly, still trying to adjust to the feel of the world without Wedge pressed against him. "I'm no expert, but if you've got tips, I'm a pretty quick study." Wedge laughed, reaching out to straighten Luke's rumpled clothing.

"Nah, that's not it. It's not the usual pilot's creed, to go slow. Live every day like it's your last, and all that." He snorted, shaking his head. In the rebellion, especially at the heart of it like they were, every day _could_  be their last. But Wedge had a feeling, a good feeling, that Luke Skywalker was someone the universe wanted to stick around. With Luke, he had time. "So I'm gonna feed you, and I'm gonna charm you, and when we finally get down to it, it's not going to be against a bunk bed." Luke made a little noise at the back of his throat, the tiniest chirp of surprise. "So if you've got some kind of objection to being wooed by a pilot, I'd appreciate you saying so now."

Luke didn't have the heart to tell him that he'd been pre-wooed before tonight, mainly because he wanted to see what Wedge would do when he was actively _trying_ to romance him instead of letting his underlying desires do the talking. So he just shook his head, ignoring the twinge in his lower back as he pulled away from the ladder.

"This is gonna go both ways, right? I get to see if I can pull together any of the dishes we ate back home, and tell you about all the daring things I used to do with my friends because we were just that bored too, yeah? Because I'm not the kind of guy who just sits back and lets himself be romanced." His arms were slung low around Wedge's waist, his face pressed to his collar. They were both grinning, high on a different kind of excitement now. 

"Oh, so now we're onto _romancing_." Wedge teased, and Luke was quite sure they'd fall into an inescapable circle of sappy banter unless something was done.

The universe heard, and it answered.

"Sir?" There was a soft knock on the door, and a voice Luke vaguely recognized as one of the newer recruits Leia had assisting her with the more political side of their cause. "Sir, the General needs to see you as soon as possible." She didn't open the door, but he also felt that she wasn't going away until she got an answer. Clearing his throat, Luke called,

"Of course, tell her I'll be right there." There was the soft sound of retreating footsteps, and then they were alone again. "Duty calls." Luke sighed, knocking his forehead into Wedge's shoulder.

"Not for me. I could stay here and take a nap, if I wanted to." Wedge joked, and Luke hated that he was right. Though he was certain Wedge was a shoo-in to make commander following his performance at the Battle of Yavin, the promotion hadn't come through just yet. His main responsibilities were towards the fighters, and other hangar aspects. It was Luke that kept getting called into tactical meetings, whether he wanted to be there or not. He kissed Wedge's cheek, not wanting to risk getting distracted by a proper kiss, and started for the door.

"If you do, feel free to borrow something to wear. Last thing I need is for my bed to reek like an X-Wing." Wedge laughed out loud, and before he closed the door, Luke could see him unzipping the top of his flight suit. He smiled to himself, then hurried down to command. Hopefully Leia didn't want him for too long.

***

As it turned out, she hadn't really needed him at all, had simply wanted to confirm that nothing unusual had happened during his flight. Their sensors had picked up a strange dual flight pattern that she _assumed_ meant Wedge had gone out with him, but it was always better to be safe than sorry.

And then she saw his bright eyes and reddened lips, and her eyes squeezed shut.

"You're fine, everyone is fine, get out of here." She said with her voice, but her mind was clearly throwing waves of _tell me everything later_ at him, and who was he to deny royalty? Leia dismissed him with a nod of her head, and he heard her sigh as he bounded away.

The lights were off in his quarters and, true to his word, Wedge was fast asleep in Luke's bunk. Quietly, Luke peeled himself out of his flight suit, replacing his undershirt with a slightly longer sleep shirt and climbed stealthily into bed. 

Wedge was flat on his stomach, snoring quietly with his face pressed into Luke's pillow. Luke took in the tension that was still in his body, the sudden desire to straddle the backs of his thighs and rub at his back and shoulders until the other man went boneless all but slapping him in the face. Still, something like that might be pushing at the boundaries they'd set for themselves and if Wedge was set on waiting, Luke refused to play the role of the overeager kid. Instead, he laid down on his side, coaxing one of Wedge's arms over his hip. Wedge woke with a small snort, shifting until he was on his side as well, back pressed to the wall. He pulled Luke close, mumbling something about spark plugs.

Luke dozed for a few hours, never really falling into a proper sleep. Wedge's hands, shy and respectful while he was awake, had taken to softly rubbing his flat stomach through his shirt, only the snoring betraying the fact that Wedge sincerely had no idea he was doing it. Still, when his alarm marked the end of his usual sleep cycle, Luke didn't feel exhausted at all. He nudged at Wedge with his elbow, and both of those wandering hands bunched themselves into the material of his shirt, groaning into his shoulder.

"It's not morning." He mumbled, stubbornly clinging to Luke. The younger man just chuckled.

"Ask your bladder what time it is." Wedge squirmed, torn between staying where he was and the desire to relieve himself. The urge to piss won and, pressing a close-mouthed kiss to Luke's chin in an attempt to contain his morning breath, Wedge launched himself off the bed, foregoing the ladder entirely on his rush to the 'fresher.

Luke laughed. He'd had no choice but to be a morning person on Tatooine and yet, amazingly found it easier to wake up on a world that didn't have the threat of the heat from twin suns looming above it. He hummed to himself, stretching before climbing out of bed to wait for his turn. From inside, he heard a flush followed by a question of,

"Luke, mouthwash?" He laughed again, and Wedge made an indignant noise. "Never mind, found it."

When Wedge finally left the 'fresher, he'd gargled and combed his hair. Luke swatted him on the hip as he rushed past with a small admonishment of, "Vain!"

"Nothing vain about not wanting to kill you first thing in the morning." Wedge grumbled, and as he washed his hands, Luke realized that they might have accidentally skipped a step somewhere. Then again...

Luke and Wedge flew together beautifully. They sat together and joked at meal times, and ran into each other often during the day. When work was done, they sought each other out. Wedge had already heard all of Luke's best stories, just as Luke had already heard Wedge's. Frankly, Luke considered Wedge one of his closest friends, with those added romantic feelings only making their friendship sweeter.

Spitting into the sink, Luke made a decision.

Wedge was sitting on Han's bunk with a datapad as he exited the 'fresher, and Luke was amused to see that he'd straightened out the sheets. He sat down next to him, swinging his bare legs into Wedge's lap, who absently began to pet the soft, light hair he found there.

"Wedge."

"Hmm?" He intoned, not looking up from that day's schedule. Luke noticed that they both were due in for a tactical briefing at noon, and then the rest of the day was to be spent doing the heavy lifting part of packing up an entire rebel base. Grunt work, the great equalizer.

"I'm romanced already." Wedge smiled, setting the datapad aside and wrapping an arm around Luke's shoulders.

"Yeah, I know. I'm still completely on board with being being wooed, though." They laughed, heads pressed together. It was an intimate moment, one Luke hoped the base would let them have. "I just wanted to show you that I, that I'm. I don't just, just _want_ you. I'm in this for the long haul if you'll have me, Red Five." Luke hummed happily for a moment, leaning up to kiss the suddenly serious lips above him.

"Copy that, Red Two."

Coming from anyone else, it would have been mocking. Hell, coming from _Luke_ it was still pretty mocking. But Luke got him, knew what he was trying to say. What he meant. And just the fact that he could do something as strange as use their call signs while Luke was practically sitting in his lap and get absolutely no flack for it was enough for Wedge.

Scooping the slightly smaller body up, Wedge tossed Luke over his shoulder once he'd stood. They still had time before the earliest risers started making their way through the barracks, and his room was just down the hall. Unlike Luke, however, he had a single.

They'd make it to the noon briefing, barely, but he wasn't sure how much heavy labor they'd be doing.

They had a few months of lost time to make up for, after all.


End file.
